


Deeds worth songs

by Ariana (Ariana_El)



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Humor, Singing, because they had joyful occasions in there too, creative bard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 08:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14398419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariana_El/pseuds/Ariana
Summary: A victory over the Enemy is a cheerful occasion, so there is feast, wine and singing. And a creative bard...





	Deeds worth songs

**Deeds worth songs**

 

Good news and the victory over the Enemy’s forces deserved a feast. Though it was Fingolfin and his son who had fought off the main army of Morgoth, Maedhros and Maglor had a part in it as well, so they had chosen Himring for celebration, as it was the farthest place north – a little demonstration. Fingon had come from Hithlum as a representative of his father, Maglor joined them from his Gap and Caranthir was visiting Maedhros at the time.

“Glorious Battle, this is how they already call it, do you know?” asked Fingon thoughtfully, watching the festivities.

Maedhros rolled his eyes and smiled.

“As if I could not,” he snorted and took a sip from his goblet. “Must I remind you that the author of these words sits in front of you?” He pointed at Maglor discussing something with Caranthir.

“Hmm?” The singer turned towards them. “Did you say something, brother?”

“No, no, never mind.” Maedhros smiled with some ostensible patronising. The bard awoke in Maglor once the danger was over and he changed from a commander into an artist. He could afford such a luxury, especially when he was a guest of his brother, who was the Chief Commander in East Beleriand.

They would have made the feast under the stars, but the harsh mountain weather had forced them to abandon the idea. Himring fortress had halls spacious enough to accommodate everyone. Considering the evening chill, no one really objected.

As the host, Maedhros did not remain long by the table. He was walking among the guests, exchanging pleasantries; gatherings like this helped to strengthen the alliances and though they were in good terms with Fingolfin, there was never too much effort. At some point he joined a group of musicians gathering to present their music.

“I see you enjoy yourself.” Maedhros said to his brother.

“Why would I not be merry, when there’s time for wine and singing?” asked the singer, plucking the strings of his silver harp on his lap. “Our valiant cousin has brought us a story worth  one song at least. Perhaps you’d like to join us?”

“No, I could not compete with you on that field, Kano.” Maedhros shook his head. “But I am waiting impatiently for your songs.”

***

The feast lasted till dawn and excellent food and wine were served, so the sun was high up on the sky when Maglor decided to get up and join the rest. The day was lazy, though the guards stood on the walls, vigilant as always.  The singer would not be surprised to see his eldest brother among them.

Two guards of Maedhros bowed their heads in greeting as he passed them. Maglor replied them and went on, when he heard the melody they were humming. It sounded suspiciously familiar and was definitely catchy. The feast must have ended interestingly...

Before he reached the hall, he heard it several times. Some elleth winked at him at the corridor, someone else smiled and went his way, humming. Maglor started suspecting where did the catchy melody come from. Then he heard a verse sung from behind the corner and he groaned silently.

The song described the Noldor victory over Morgoth in a funny, straight-forward and terribly mischievous way, praising Fingon’s and Fingolfin’s deeds in catchy verses. And to his own despair, after just a few Maglor was certain who was the author of those verses.

“Well, well.” Maedhros could not contain a smirk, seeing his brother’s apparent embarrassment as he joined the table. “I admit I did not know this side of you. Was it Caranthir’s wine or the climate here that sharpened you wit so?”

“Don’t say a word,” groaned Maglor. “Do we have a diplomatic scandal already?” He asked, glancing at Fingon, who didn’t even try to hide his amusement.

“It won’t be that bad,” his cousin tried to cheer him up. “I admit I wasn’t expecting that, but certainly no one will miss our victory.”

“Wonderful...” Maglor sat heavily next to his brother and pushed away with disgust the goblet Maedhros  got him. “Just enlighten me, please. Is there a lot of it?”

“Oh, worry not.” Fingon’s smile was definitely too broad. “Twenty verses at least, or that’s what I’ve heard. But you should ask, there is surely someone who remembered all of it.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, please let me know. If there is somehing not working, tell me as well, I will gladly correct any mistakes.  
> I'll respond to any kind of feedback... that is, unless Maglor trottles me for that story first.


End file.
